


Internet Personas

by NarwhalsButTheyreOnLand



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Good Friends, Internet Personas by Atlas, Late night talks, M/M, Realization of Feelings, Set in real life, Song Inspired, dealing with depression, internet personas, minecraft boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarwhalsButTheyreOnLand/pseuds/NarwhalsButTheyreOnLand
Summary: It's not that he's depressed.It's not that he's happy either.He feels like something is missing, he feels like something is smothering him with a damp towel and raining on his parade. There's no sun despite being in Florida, only clouds around his heart.He has everything, he does what he loves for a living, he has the best friends in the world, and he has the best fansーFans. Friends.Of course he knew if the fans caught on to him not being alright they would start something on Twitter, on Tiktok, maybe even Instagram. And with that leads to drama, and with drama leads to even more emotions. As well as if his friends knew they would would be overbearing, maybe even pitying him for God knows what.So for now Clay will put on this mask the fans so helpfully have given him, and with it a persona too. For now, all the fans, all his friendsーeveryoneー just need to know that he is fine.Dream is simply his internet persona of course, and that's all it ever was.Right?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 69





	1. 01:00

It isn’t that he is depressed.

It is just that he just isn’t fully content.

Dream stares at the computer screen, his alarm clock blaring a red light that reads 3:28 𝑨𝑴. As he leans back, almost falling off his chair as his limbs stretch out in all different directions, his murky green eyes stick to the completed video. Hours upon hours of labor put into it yet he isn’t content.

He isn’t sad about it or anything.

Dream just isn’t content with it.

The video idea was simple enough, just him, Sapnap, and George trying to beat the game with nausea. It was tortureー𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴 '𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵, 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦'ー Dream thinks with a small smirk, only to be interrupted with a yawn. As Dream rubs his eyes and then his cheeks to keep him awake for a minute more. The blue PUBLISH button stares mockingly at him.

It isn’t that Dream doesn’t want to upload the video.

It’s just that he believes it could’ve been better.

Ignoring the fact that all three of the men had to take breaks through out the video, Dream couldn’t ignore how he sounded.

He sounded sadー

𝘜𝘯𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥ー

𝑫𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅ー

But Dream isn’t depressed. He was just in a mood that day. Just like the day before, and the day before that, as well as the week before that. He can’t place why, 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, Dream reasons with himself. Staring at the clock on his computer. 3:42 𝘈𝘔, 𝘩𝘶𝘩, 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵’𝘷𝘦 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵. He chuckles, stifling back a yawn with his mouth. He rubs his eyes harder, colors spin around the room afterwards but it’s pretty in a distraction sort of way. Distracting him from the fact that in the recording he kept going quiet, kept zoning out, kept forgetting, he fell, and he didn’t even hear his best friends in the call at points.

Dream had no reason for it, the nausea was annoying but it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t bad enough for him to zone out to the point where Sapnap, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, had to call his name, 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘩 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, at least a hundred times to get his attention. Although with that came the new nicknames.

🌠 𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓽 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓼 🌠

“Oh Dream Chaser,” throughout the teamspeak a cackle resembling a tea kettle rang through the headphones of the three boys. All three grinning, two because they got the attention of their friend, and one because of the ridiculous name. 

“Dream Chaser?” Dream snorted, his green character punching another block figure with one of the most basic outfits in the game only to be saved from the basicity by the so-called-clout goggles, “what kind of weird-ass name is that? It’s not even catchy!”

“It’s not?” A British voice responded while faking ignorance, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯. The clout goggle character responded by punching Dream’s green and white minecraft man. 

“It really wasn’t,” another voice chimed in while mining stone. The black and white minecraft man jumped out of his one by one hole. Stopping only to look at his inventory and to place down a wooden crafting table for him and the others to use, “come on Georgie-pooh, you could’ve done better than that!”

“Oh yeah,” accused the British one, 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, “with what? Dreamster?” The smirk was evident as the next second him and Dream burst out laughing. It wasn’t a good comeback, far from it, but it was the basic and more simpler things in life that made Dream laugh. 

An audible groan went through the headsets as the third member mumbles, “still better than Dream Chaser. Now come on, I think I’m gonna puke if we have to do this challenge for more than a few hours!” The black and white minecraft man punched the air before he broke the brown crafting table and raced for the water in the game. Only to stop a few seconds later to make disgusting vomiting sounds to really nail in his claim.

“Fine, come on Dream, it seems like little Sapnap can’t handle this all by himself,” George’s voice became almost baby-like, clearly meant to mock Sapnap.

Dream snorts, “don’t you mean Dream 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘳?” Only to be gifted with his character taking damage as well as a groan and a laugh, and although his character begins to run to Sapnap’s, his eyes can’t help but wander as well as his thoughts. Until once again the three go in a loop with trying to get their fuzzy-headed friend engaged in the challenge once more.

🌠 𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓽 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓼 🌠

The dimming of light is what gets Dream’s attention. Snapping his head to a clock on the wall slowly ticking, 4:14 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵’𝘷𝘦 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.. With a sigh Dream slowly pushes himself up from his black office chair. Shuffling his feet across the clean carpet, except for one or two pieces of fuzz from the carpet. 𝘔𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘶𝘮..

He piles onto his queen size bed, his long limbs going wherever they please. The moss color blanket is left off, since even with just a white tank top, some boxers, and the AC on it’s still burning up in the room. The Floridian heat continues to bombard citizens even in November.

It’s not until he’s at complete silence does he remember why he was up so late. It isn’t until his anxiety suddenly spikes, 𝘸𝘩𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘵, that he remembers the finished video. Yet he shuts his eyes tighter as he relishes in the comfort of his bed until some minuscule thoughts in his head get the better of him and he trudges out. 

Dream shakes his mouse around with no real caution, lucky enough it doesn’t fly out of the sleepy man’s hands before the monitor turns on. The bright white light blinding Dream as he closes his eyes and squints just enough to make out the shapes and colors of his monitor. As soon as he does and the thumbnail’s blurry image enters his vision does he hesitate over the PUBLISH button. 

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯… Even in Dream’s sleep deprived state he recognizes that. He knows his fans would pick up on the lack of interest he had in playing the game. Not just the challenge, Minecraft itself. Even with most of the clips of him zoning out being cut out, there are still a handful that he simply can't cut out. Whether it be because Sapnap or George was doing something in his peripheral, or because one of the two thought it's good content. 

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, Dream makes himself smile just slightly. Imaging how Sapnap would retort with a fake tone of hurt, 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦. 𝘔𝘢ke 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰.

Dream blinks back to focus, the light no longer hurting his eyes. He looks at the button, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵? 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵..

Without another thought Dream hits the PUBLISH button. After making sure it was fully uploaded only then did Dream log out and shut down his monitor as well as his computer. The sound of the tech roaring to life only to go dead silent the next moment. Dream wobbles over to his bed and collapses onto it. 

4:39 𝘈𝘔, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥.. 𝘏𝘦𝘩, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 9 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘔 𝘪𝘯 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥.. Those were his last thoughts before he went to sleep, thoughts of a rising sun over the London Bridge, and about brown eyes reflecting the golden hues of the sun.


	2. 02:00

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add that the way depression is represented in this fic is based off my own experiences with it. I wouldn't call this a vent fic though, I am not actively venting about my depression through these characters, I simply use my own depression as a base and expanded out, better to write about something you know, have dealt with, and understand :).
> 
> Everyone experiences depression differently. It's not always sad twenty four seven for everyone, for some it might, and I encourage you to seek help if you believe it is too much for you. You don't always have to get through it alone.
> 
> Also!  
> Key word I have used is characters. Everyone in this fic is a character and should not be tied to any of the real life content creators. Speaking of content creators, please do not force this ship onto them. They have stated that they do not mind being shipped but you shouldn't force anything onto anyone.
> 
> Also warning, I do use real names in some parts. I understand that for some that is going a bit too far. I still do not tie this "Clay" or this "George" to the real people. Because these are characters and in no shape or form the actual interpretations of Dream and George.  
> Now please enjoy reading.

The fans notice. 

They notice the pauses, the stillness, the overall disconnect from reality. It’s not like Dream was surprised, millions of people watch him, a few thousand are bound to pick it up. He knows it was coming, he knew when he hit the PUBLISH button yesterday morning the fans would go to every social media they had to make assumptions.

“𝘋𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵?”

“𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘓𝘔𝘈𝘖”

“𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 :(“

“𝘎𝘜𝘠𝘚 𝘏𝘌’𝘚 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘉𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘠 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘛𝘐𝘙𝘌𝘋. 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘙𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎!”

Yeah, he is tired. He is tired but the twelve hours of sleep say otherwise. It’s not like he just got up either, no, he got up roughly an hour ago. He didn’t feel like getting out of bed so he opted to open Twitter, the blue and white icon were welcoming, the notifications were less so. His inbox was filled with assumptions and even some DMs, yet he paid no mind and scrolled through it half heartedly before only a few minutes left he got deathly bored, putting his phone down he opted to stare at the ceiling.

Until a ping and a distinct buzz fills the silent room. It is then he remembers what the consequences for sleeping for twelve hours straight were. The missed voice calls, the hundred plus messages, all still unread. To his dismay, it isn’t the first time he put off checking discord or teamspeak, that doesn't help the guilt. The guilt of just disappearing, the guilt of leaving his friends on read, even the guilt of saying “I’m fine, just tired.”

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? Dream questions as he once again ignores the discord ping coming from his phone, 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Another ping goes off.

Then another,

And another,

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧ー

Dream relents and picks up his phone. Seeing about ten different friends DM him, and his discord server is all lit up with unread messages. At the top of the channel in blue it informs him, “50+ New Messages.” 

Dream idly scrolls down, one after another channel before finally caving in by pressing his “Mark As Read,” for the server. He doesn’t look over it, barely glances. The same goes for the DMs, he catches one or two words from them. He thinks Karl asked if he wanted to play on the SMP, he recalls seeing “challenge” in one of Skeppy’s messages. 

He clicks on one after the other, after the other, after the other, marking them as read so the red number finally goes away. Till he reaches George’s. It's a simple message, one he’s heard countless times the past few weeks. The past few weeks in which he hasn’t been showing up a lot, hasn’t been talking like himself, like he is depressed.

𝘐’𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘐- 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦ー 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵..

He reads the message, “you ok Dream?” George isn’t one to confront things, rather to say nothing and brush it off with a gesture. Let someone else handle it, like when he was in love or host. The girls talked and poured their hearts out, all the while George glanced to the side and said a single word response. Or even when they were younger, when Dream would ask how George’s day was he would get a, “it was alright Classes were boring tho" and that would be it. Same with asking how he is, “Oh Im alright Rough day but it got better”

So this is more surprising than the fans making assumptions. 

“Yeah, dude I must’ve been exhausted cause I just slept for like twelve hours straight,” it's a very mediocre response. But it isn’t him, yet it is at the same time. It's confusing, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘧..

His thoughts clear away as his phone screen begins to move before stilling. A new message appearing after Dream’s previous one. “Yeah you seemed pretty tired in the vid to”

Dream doesn’t even get to even think about his next response before another message appears, “have you checked twitter?” Dream knows what George is referring too. He knows this is George’s way of asking, “𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘬?” It is sorta endearing. 

“Oh, dttwit? Yeah, crazy how having one bad day can spiral into people thinking I am, like, depressed.” He sorta lies, his day wasn’t bad that day. It was pretty boring the day of the recording. It was the same as every other day, wake up, check his phone, get on his computer and edit, maybe get on the SMP, and then boom record. But then there wouldn’t be a reason why he was so out of it, in hindsight Dream realizes this wasn’t the best move as he sees, “George is typing…” pop up in the bottom of the screen.

“Well, it wasn’t bad. Bad wording lol. I just was doing a lot of things at once, tryna figure out stuff for the SMP, thinkin about new video ideas, ya know?” Dream quickly hits send, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“George is typing…” falters for a second before it flickers back on the screen. “Oh yeah I get that” It’s basic, and it’s 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦. The only thing that sticks out is how fast he responded. George isn’t a very fast typer, he usually just pokes the keys and barely rereads anything. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘴, Dream has to physically hold back a laugh, even with no one around. 

George is non-surprisingly the one to end the conversation first. Like usual, although most of the time he’s the one leaving people on read at the weirdest of times, or sending out a very short reply before leaving. But that is 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, he has always been like that ever since Dream met him, always awkward, always a bit clueless, always so him. 

“Im gonna code now Also Sapnap was worried too check with him for me” and how could Dream say no? It’s a simple request. 

“Alright, I’ll check in with him and talk to you later.” Dream types his message out a bit slower, since as soon as his fingers press the arrow to send, his thoughts are covered once again. It seems like static is only in his head, feels like his thoughts are feet trudging along in the snow. Even with the foggy head he clicks on Sapnap’s DMs.

“Yoooo”

“Dream?”

“Hey man Twitter is wild, but they makin good points.”

“Dream?”

Dream stares at the messages for a second or two, the words not processing even as he types out, “Hey, I just talked with George and he said you were worried about me?” 

Sapnap’s status immediately turns from a boring gray into a red dot, and not even a minute later Dream gets a response. “Hell yeah, you weren’t answering any of us and Twitter was going crazy over that new vid. Usually they’re just crazy but you rlly didn’t seem like yourself.” 

Dream switches between having the keyboard open, to just staring at the message before finally typing something out, “Oh,” he presses send before beginning on a new message, “Yeah dw, I was just doing too much at once and it got to me. I’m fine now.”

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘦?

Dream sees that a new message was sent by the time he looks at his phone. “Alright man, if you need anything I’m here. I gotchu.”

“<3”

The heart was a nice addition, but it took everything for Dream to type out a “<3” back to his best friend. It’s strange, 𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘐’𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, Dream closes out of the app and scrolls through his phone before opening Twitter. Scrolling through that for a second before a new notification interrupts his screen.

“Btw, if you’re up to it do you think we could facetime later today?” Dream clicks on the notification and the familiar site of his and Sapnap’s DMs welcome him. 

It’s such a simple request, “Sorry, I was actually planning on being really busy today,” so why does he say no? “Maybe another day?” 

“Ah yeah. Ttyl then,” Sapnap’s response reeks of disappointment. Dream knows this, how could he not? Him and Sapnap have been friends since they were kids, Dream knows Sapnap’s way of communicating. 𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦.

“Yeah, ‘ttyl’ Sappynappy,” the conversation dies from there. Although Sapnap does leave an angry emoji reaction to Dream’s last message. Dream once again clicks out of discord and goes to Twitter. His thumb presses on different things but only a minute later does he click out and log into Reddit, before repeating the same process.

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, the thought reassures Dream. It reassures him that everything is fine, that he just needs a change of pace probably. Then everything will be back to normal. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥..

So with a begrudging swing of the blankets and placing his feet on the fuzzy carpet, Dream gets up and heads to his closet to put on some more comfortable clothes to go out for a walk. Despite it being November, Florida has a funny way of going along with the idea that climate change is real and making it seventy-six degrees. So Dream opts for a long sleeve dark green shirt, and some basic cargo shorts. 

Dream really does like the more basic things in life. 

🌠 𝓦𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 🌠

Clouds block the sun’s rays, the slight breeze rolling off his clear face. The walk downtown is nice, it’s refreshing. The bustling city fills his ears, the honking of cars, the chatting of pedestrians, even the few chirps of the birds are welcoming. 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘪𝘳, Dream chuckles as the breeze blows past him as he finishes that thought, it messes up his blonde hair a bit but he pays no mind.

The sidewalk isn’t full of many people, and the spare few wear masks covering their nose and mouth. Of course with Dream having at least one brain cell has a mask on, although it’s a blank white cloth one. On brand for his little white blob avatar. 

Dream recalls Sapnap laughing when Dream brought up the reason for the boring mask, teasing Dream by calling the idea, “childish”. But George, well George was laughing for a different reason. He was laughing cause he thought it was a great funny idea, and that was all the reason to wear it.

Walking isn’t the funniest thing to do in Dream’s opinion, at least not currently. When he was younger it was harder to get him to watch football than to play it, harder for him to do homework in third grade than be running around. So out of boredom Dream pinches the metal in the cloth that is on top of his nose. It gives him something to focus on as he walks past people on the sidewalk.

Dream already decided back at the house to not check his phone on the walk to give himself some space. 

On the road he notices the different types of cars, 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. As well as not just noticing cars, he notices the different people walking about as well. 𝘈 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘨, 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴.

Pausing when seeing the two men, looking at the two out of the corner of his eyes. They stand at the crosswalk Dream himself is heading to. Hand in hand as one, a taller one with dirty blond hair and a colorful t-shirt scrolls through his phone. The other one, a bit shorter, looks up at the man as if he was the most beautiful star. The short one has a jacket that covers his whole hand, the boy he says something that makes the other laugh. 

Slow steps as he finally registers that he had stopped walking before he stops at the crosswalk beside the couple, it’s not as if he has never seen two men holding hands. It’s just that they look so well connected. The way the two strangers barely talk to one another, yet look so happy anyways. They don’t seem to care about anyone else, just the two of them. The taller one may not have his sight on the other, but his ears are open and he makes sure to listen to everything the shorter one says. 

Someone who’s thought just makes his day brighter. Someone to hold, someone to love, someone to talk with him about nothing or everything. Another person who doesn’t care what the world thinks, just what he thought, just what they are.That’s what Dream wishes for, but he doubts he’ll ever get that wish. Dream glances at the HAWK beacon and it’s angry red image flashing numbers. 

In only a few seconds the HAWK beacon goes a bright white and the civilians on the crosswalk begin to move, including the other two. They walk alongside him, but as they reach the other side they turn left, leaving Dream to take one last peek at them as he heads straight. The taller one looks down to the brown hair one as he spills out something, the man has a look of awe in his eyes, as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than with the other. 

The buildings block Dream’s vision from seeing the two, from what Dream thinks, soulmates so he averts his eyes now onto a door to a local cafe. One that serves delicious pastries, as well as amazing coffee. He regularly attends this place as it’s usually overlooked by the bigger and more eye catching stores around it. The glass door has a welcoming logo imprinted on it, and the completely glass window walls on each side of the door show paintings of turkeys and all things Thanksgiving-ly. Dream pushes open the door and is greeted with a bell ringing off.

He takes his place in line, six feet away from the other person. Momentarily forgetting everything, his steps are automatic too. He looks around as he waits for his turn to order, he pinches the bridge of his nose once more as he notices all the tables have been stored away as well as the chairs, posters are on the wall encouraging people to keep safe and drink outside. Before COVID-19 Dream brought his laptop here and got to edit videos here in a cozy atmosphere, or scroll through Reddit looking for more ideas for videos. Sometimes he’d even hop on a call with George.

All those days are gone now he realizes as he comes up to the register. The girl behind it smiles using her eyes, something Dream has a hard time doing. It was somewhat like what the couple looked like, showing so much emotion through two little things. 

“Hi sir, what can I get for you this evening?” She asks and looks down, ready to punch something into the register she’s at.

“Oh, can I just get a medium espresso?” Dream responds as he gets out some cash. The girl nods before asking if that’s all. Dream nods his head and she grabs a cup from a nearby stack. 

“And what’s your name?” It’s such a normal question but Dream falters. It’s like his brain short circuits, a question that he has been asked since he could speak, no longer has an answer. 

“Clay.”

The woman behind the counter nods and scribbles down the word while speaking, “Alright Clay, that will be out in just a second. If you wouldn’t mind, could you move over there to wait for your drink?” She gestures to a little waiting area. Dream numbly nods and moves over there without a second thought.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥? 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳?

It only takes about two minutes of Dream’s eyes wandering from his shoes to the machines making his espresso for it to be done.

A young boy calls out his name, “An espresso for Clay!” Dream walks over and picks up his drink, quietly thanking the boy for it. 

It hits Dream as he walks out of the entrance. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦? 𝘐𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸… now I think Clay is starting to really affect Dream.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘵.

🌠 𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓾𝓼 🌠

By the time Dream gets home, his espresso is already half gone and going cold. He unlocks his house and steps his, Patches meowing eagerly as he kicks his sandals off as well as removing his mask. He moves to pet her, but it lasts only a minute before she pounces off to do something else. 

Dream lets out a chuckle as he watches his cat move into another room. He places the coffee down on his kitchen’s island as he takes a seat as well. Pulling out his phone he isn’t met with all that many notifications. Actually, only one.

“Dream you up to face time?” George sent it only ten minutes ago, probably around the time he was ordering his coffee. It’s such a basic question, how could he say no?

Only an hour ago did he turn down Sapnap for the same request.

“Yeah, I’m down. Although how about just a call? I look like a mess and I don’t think any amount of beauty sleep will fix it.” Dream’s response is better than before. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, he reasons. Truth be told the wind did mess up his hair, his eyes do look tired, and his shirt is the definition of messy from just a simple walk.

“lol talk in a hour?” George’s question is met with a few words of confirmation from Dream, and of course one smiley face to end it off with. 

He puts down his phone before going over to Patches’ food bowl and getting a can of wet food from the pantry. Opening it he wonders, 𝘚𝘩𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘸𝘰, 𝘰𝘯𝘦.. And he’s right. Patches jumps hastily onto the counter, eyeing the now open can of food. Dream scratches under her chin as he pours the food into her bowl on the ground. She meows as a word of appreciation and jumps down after it. 

Next to bypass the time he goes to the living room, picking up his phone as he passes by. He clicks on the remote's power button and watches as the TV flickers to life. He clicks on Netflix and scrolls through that. He doesn’t even hear the clock ticking by the minutes as he just scrolls through the shows.

It’s all not enough to make him content.

He gives up on it barely ten minutes later, which seems like a lot to just be scrolling through the menu to look for a show or movie to watch, but to Dream it felt like it was just a minute of absentee scrolling. 

So he gets up and heads to his room, nudging Patches with his toes as he passes her. She barely spares him a glance. Dream opens the door and shuts it behind him with no real push. He moves past his discarded pajamas laying in the corner of his room, and steps over a few fuzz balls that accumulated because of the carpet.

A whump sound fills the room as he plops down on his bed to scroll through his social for the tenth time that day, non-surprisingly it gets boring pretty quickly. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸, he does end up liking some Dream Team fanart as well as posting a quick tweet with a picture of Patches attached to it. 

Then he remembers that the fans still haven’t heard from him about the video yet. It’s not like he’s obligated to explain his dissociation, but the fans would continue to assume until he did. 

Groaning while loading up a new tweet before punching in, “For everyone worried about me because of my newest video, 1) Thank you. 2) I am perfectly alright! I was just thinking of ways to mess with George in the next video. 3) I bet you @Skeppy and @SaintsofGames couldn't do better than us even if they tried lol. I now leave you all with Patches again :)”. An image of Patches eating food from a week ago and the tweet are sent. Leaving Dream with nothing to do.

So he zones out, he begins to think about other things. Like how long till COVID is over, or how the light green color of his walls match the green of his bed sheets. More important stuff too, like the differences in 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 and in 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮. 

The fans are so use to seeing 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, Clay was usually no were in that persona. In that internet persona he didn’t even realize he had. Not until he thinks about it. Dream is confident, is loud, is clever, is powerful. Clay, while mostly the same doesn’t have the same confidence Dream has. How he can go chase after four people at once, but Clay can stick up for himself. He’s also not too loud, not in the sense Dream is. Dream’s presence alone grabs the attention of everyone, Clay blends in with the crowd. The cleverness is different too, while Dream uses it to outwit multiple people at once, Clay uses it to bypass traffic. Powerful? In the make believe world Dream is in, he rules it. In the world that Clay lives in, he’s barely a blink on the radar for powerful people. 

But the biggest difference is that everyone collectively decided that Dream is straight. The fandom, even the fanart and shippers, all believe Dream is straight. Which could be true.

Since Clay is not.

And with Dream and Clay being different, they could be different in that sense too. The confident, loud, clever, and powerful Dream being straight who jokingly flirts with his best friends. While the regular Clay is bisexual and… and flirts with his best friends. 

The realization is weird to Dream. Since it’s just joking flirting.

𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

A loud buzz and a ringtone bounces off the walls of his room. Dream jumps a little and looks down at his phone. George is calling. He’s calling a bit early, but only by fiveish minutes. 

Dream’s thumb hovers over the accept button.𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭… Dream knows George will be, it's not a guess or an assumption. 

Dream doesn't want that, he doesn't want George to be disappointed. So even if he doesn't quite feel like talking at the moment, he knows he wouldn't have missed the call for anything. 

"Geooooorge!" Dream draws out George's name. Adding a teasing tone to mask the exhaustion coming over him. 

"Dreeeeam!" George mimics Dream, and Dream can faintly hear a giggle after the name. 

Dream smiles, 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵, as long as his friends are happy, 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺, Dream believes he can push through this exhaustion.

"Why did you wanna call?" Dream closes out of Discord, but leaves the app running in the background. He scrolls up and to his Instagram. 

As the app loads Dream gets an answer, "Oh, I don't know," George let's out more of a breath than a laugh. Almost the same way someone would let out a breath in disbelief, only Dream knows it's suppose to be in amusement. 

Dream rolls his eyes, scrolling through Instagram. Looking through his inboxes, "You don't know? George," he scolds. His brows furrow but the ends of his lips twitch up, even though George can’t see him.

George can’t see him.

George can’t see the dimples he has, the blonde hair that gets messy in the slight breeze, but worse of all George can’t see his eyes. The green, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸, eyes that have specks of brown that mimic dirt.

George can’t see how Dream can’t show his emotions through them. 

“...is why you suck,” Dream only catches the last bit of what he immediately assumes is George mocking him for zoning out. George shows his affection in some of the weirdest ways Dream knows of, through weird gestures on facecams, maybe the small flirting, or even just bullying Dream. Dream knows this is George’s way of showing he cares, because Dream knows 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦.

“Yeah, yeah, real funny. I was not zoned out,” it’s a safe response to give, with a cheeky tone that borders teasing. Dream closes out of Instagram and instead settles for going to Discord again and watching George’s profile.

“Yeaaah,” George huffs out a laugh with a mix in giggle, “sure sure.” The smile in George’s words is clear as crystal. It alone genuinely has Dream smiling, even though Dream can’t see George.

Dream can’t see George.

Dream can’t see the faces George is making as he says his responses, the freckles that sit right under both of his eyes, but probably the most saddening thing Dream can’t see are George’s eyes. Brown eyes that Dream describes as the color of chocolate, not dirt like the specks Dream has. 

Dream can’t see how George can show his emotions through them.

This time Dream replies before the silence stretches too long from him thinking, “How could I when all I hear is you,” Dream laughs, the statement meaning to be a sarcastic comeback but from George’s response it doesn’t get across that way.

“Aw Dreamie, do I make it hard for you to focus?” 

“All the time.”

Both crack up from the ridiculous things they say. It isn’t as funny as the other jokes they have made, but to them they wheeze or giggle as if it was gold. Dream calms down quicker than usual, which leaves him hearing George's hefty giggles filter through his earbuds. 

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘦?

“Anyways,” Dream can picture George turning his eyes elsewhere as he speaks, “I did call for a reason.”

“Oh, so not because you just miss my voice?”

They are falling back into the rhythm they have, a very delicate rhythm that Dream time and time again worries he broke. A rhythm where they are best friends who jokingly flirt with each other. Dream worries that one day he might break it, and break the best friend part too.

“You wish.” Dream can picture George turning back to face his phone or computer. Planning on what to speak, maybe licking his lips as he processes his words, “Sapnap asked me to talk to you about the Nausea challenge.”

That’s when things are broken. Not permanently, but the dance they were doing is put on pause. Dream’s giddy attitude and smile are erased from his face. Dream himself takes a few seconds to carefully pick out his words.

“Ah, he’s been worried for nothing. He kept on saying he was worried earlier too,” he tries to turn it into a joke. Into a “oh look at Sapnap being paranoid haha,” situation that would lead back to the dance between him and George playing once again.

“Well, that’s what best friends do,” Dream’s thoughts are broken, “and as co-best friend of yours, I do it too.”

Dream processes that sentence. Only a few moments ago George was giggling with Dream as they fake-flirted. Only minutes ago George didn’t even remember why he asked to call, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. George spoke with precision, as if saying one wrong word would lead to Dream calling him out. “George,” Dream copies George’s tone, “thank you. Both of you, but I’m 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.”

George isn’t one to push, Dream knows this like everything else about George, so it’s not a surprise when George gives in, “Alright I’ll take your word for it.”

“But if you need anything, you know I don’t really have a life right?” George and Dream shatter into bouts of giggling or wheezing. Dream’s face scrunches up, and he pictures George going back and forth in his chair while trying not to giggle so much. Dream’s laugh only lasts for a minute or so before the happiness disappears.

Listening to George’s giggles and loud breaths from him trying to not laugh remind Dream of how tired he is. No reason is given to Dream as his brain begins to replay the thought of how tired he feels, despite only sleeping, going out for an hour, and ‘relaxing’ for one hour. 𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩?

“Alright, alright George. Listen I just got home from a walk so I’m dead tired, I’ll catch you on the SMP. Don’t forget to report back to Co-Bestfriend Major Sappitus Nappitus!” Dream forces out a genuine cackle. He invisions George rolling his eyes. 

“Got it, also never use ‘co-best friend’ again I even regretted saying it.” 

“Alright co-best-” Dream doesn’t finish his sentence as he sees George’s Caller ID get a gray cast over it. 

Dream rolls his tired eyes, deciding to sleep for a little bit before getting up and eating dinner. He faintly remembers he forgot to eat breakfast, and barely hears a thought scolding him for only getting an espresso. Yet Dream’s body doesn’t give a signal physically to warn him that he’s hungry so he closes his eyes to relax. 

Dream ends up asleep with the next few minutes, and ends up missing one new message from a certain colorblind boy.

“Maybe one day I won't just be your co-best friend.”


End file.
